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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25733299">I'll Be Your Mirror</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shreds_and_patches/pseuds/shreds_and_patches'>shreds_and_patches</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>14th Century CE RPF, Richard II - Shakespeare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheerful Everyone Lives AUs, F/M, First Time, Horny Dorks In Love, shameless fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:35:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25733299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shreds_and_patches/pseuds/shreds_and_patches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>First-year university student Richard Plantagenet wakes up with a hangover -- next to his best friend. Nothing happened, but it leads to a major revelation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anne of Bohemia Queen of England/Richard II of England</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'll Be Your Mirror</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMalhamBird/gifts">TheMalhamBird</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is meant to be in <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510379">the same university AU</a> that TheMalhamBird writes. I also borrowed the scenario from her. The other fics in this verse imply he hasn't met Robert de Vere yet so I went that route here too.</p><p>The conversation about ways to say "I love you" in Czech indicates that they're moving quite fast but hey, that's them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before Richard even opens his eyes, he realizes there's someone next to him.</p><p>He hasn't opened his eyes because they hurt too much, he's in bed with someone, and he can't remember who it is, or where he is, since he probably hasn't brought someone home—Henry would have thrown a fit if he had, because he's a total arsehole about gay sex going on anywhere near him (or, probably, straight sex that doesn't involve him, but Richard has never had straight sex before).</p><p>That's really good logic, he thinks. Especially when he's this hung over.</p><p>He decides to take the risk and open his eyes, just a crack. Maybe he hasn't had sex after all—he does have most of his clothes on. Maybe someone has just held him down and poured sand on his face until he passed out. In front of him is a brown blur which slowly resolves to a wardrobe with a bunch of postcards taped to it, along with a pennant. It's the most legible thing at this distance and it says FC BOHEMIANS PRAHA.</p><p>He's in Anne's room. It's a relief, a huge relief, except—she's in bed with him. And he doesn't actually remember how they got there. He's pretty sure she hadn't been with him when he went to the pub last night.</p><p>She's his best friend, probably the best friend he's ever had, and if he's ruined everything— </p><p>He turns over, head pounding, and touches her arm, very carefully—he knows <i>he</i> would probably freak out if someone shook him awake, although he doesn't have any reason to believe that Anne would. She's wearing pajamas, which is probably a good sign—they're cute pajamas too, with little fluffy clouds printed on them. She looks nice asleep, all snuggly and peaceful, and it's adorable when her eyes flutter open.</p><p>"Anne?" he says.</p><p>"Hi," she says, smiling sleepily. "How do you feel?"</p><p>Richard flops back down, staring up at the ceiling. "Like I've been run over by a train," he says. "And then pissed on."</p><p>"I'm not surprised," Anne says. "You were pretty fucked up. <i>Opilý namol</i>."</p><p>"Is that Czech for fucked up?"</p><p>"That's exactly what it is," Anne says, "and that is exactly what you were. There's some ibuprofen on the shelf behind you, and some water. I thought you might need it when you woke up." </p><p>"You're amazing," he says, carefully pushing himself into a sitting position to take a couple of pills and drink about half of the bottle of water. "I think the room is spinning," he says, and Anne sits up herself, long enough to help him lie back.</p><p>"Better?" she says, and Richard nods, very carefully. "You don't mind that I took you back here, do you?" she adds. "I was at the pub with some friends and I saw you there and you didn't seem to have anyone looking out for you—I thought maybe I should have taken you back to your flat, but I couldn't remember where it was, and I didn't have your cousin's phone number…"</p><p>"Anne," he says, "we didn't have sex, did we?"</p><p>"No!" Anne almost cries out, her face pained. She takes his hand in both of hers and squeezes. "I would never do that to you, not when you were drunk," she says. "I promise—I thought maybe I should have slept in the common room, but then I was worried about you, like if you got sick or something, and you wanted to snuggle, so—"</p><p>"Anne," he says again, "it's all right. I trust you. It's just that…I don't trust <i>me.</i>"</p><p>"I'm sorry," Anne says. She wraps an arm around him and snuggles up against him, and Richard turns onto his side so that they're face to face. "<i>I</i> trust you." </p><p>"I know. It's just…" Richard swallows hard. "I've done some stupid shit while I was drunk, before, that I only sort of remember, and—if we slept together, I wouldn't want it to be like that. I'd want to remember it, because—Anne, you're really special, and really beautiful, and I would want it to be special and beautiful because you deserve that."</p><p>Anne stares up at him, her brown eyes wide, awestruck, and her lips parted, just a little. "You—do you mean you want to? Not just hypothetically?" </p><p>Richard's cheeks grow warm, and his mouth is dry. "Yeah," he says. "Yes, I do. I don't think I'd really realized it until I woke up here, with you, and thought I might have done it and then forgotten it." He swallows hard. "You don't mind, do you?"</p><p>Anne's cheeks are pink and her eyes bright. "Richard, I think I've wanted you ever since I met you," she whispers. "It's just…" She bites her lip. "I didn't think you liked girls."</p><p>"I don't know if I like <i>girls</i>," Richard says. "At least, not in that way. I've never really dated or slept with one before. But I like <i>you</i> and I don't know why it took me so long to figure out what that actually meant."</p><p>Anne giggles, in a way that's halfway to a sob, but it's definitely a happy one because her face is absolutely radiant, and she's so beautiful that Richard can't help grinning himself before he leans in and kisses her, and then she's kissing him back and she doesn't even seem to notice or care what his mouth tasted like when he woke up. Her arms are draped around his neck and everything about her is so <i>soft</i>—her thighs and breasts and belly pressed up against him, her skin under his fingers as they creep beneath the hem of her pajama top, her lips against his and her breath sighed out against his mouth as their tongues brush. It's not until they break apart for air that Richard recalls that his head is still throbbing and his eyes feel like sand.</p><p>"<i>Pane Bože,</i>" Anne pants, her eyes still closed and her breathing labored. </p><p>Richard reaches out to stroke her hair. "You're an amazing kisser," he says. "I think I'm a little dizzy."</p><p>Anne giggles and kisses him again, quickly this time, mouths closed. "Are you sure you're not just hung over?"</p><p>Richard grins back at her. "Well, the headache and nausea and scratchy eyes are the hangover," he says. "I think the dizziness is your fault though."</p><p>Anne curls up against his chest again, wrapping an arm around his waist. "We don't have to do anything until you feel better," she says. "Why don't we take a nap, and then get some breakfast? Then we can come back here and—pick up where we left off. See where it goes."</p><p>"That is a brilliant idea," Richard says. He leans in and kisses the top of Anne's head. Her hair smells fruity. It's adorable. "Before I forget, though—you don't have condoms, do you?" </p><p>"I'm on the birth control shot,” Anne says. "I don't think you need to worry about catching anything because—" She lowers her eyes, her cheeks pink again. "This will be my first time."</p><p>Richard beams at her—she is so special and beautiful and she's letting him be her first; what has he done to deserve that? Then he remembers his own first time, a disastrous encounter with a third-year he'd met in a club during freshers' week whose boyfriend had come back to Oxford early, and his smile fades a little. "Remember how I said I've done some dumb shit while drunk?" he says. "I don't <i>think</i> I've got anything either but I want to make sure you're safe—"</p><p>Anne leans up to kiss him on the cheek. "We can stop at Boots after breakfast," she says. "Finish your water before your nap," she adds, and he kisses her back before he obeys, and then curls up in her arms.</p><p>Richard awakes to the sound of rain against the window. He's feeling a lot better, either because he's had more sleep or because Anne is still sleeping peacefully beside him, her arm around his waist and her head nestled against his shoulder. He wonders if she got enough sleep last night and if he should wake her up or let her sleep as long as she wants. What if she changes her mind after some sleep? Stop being stupid, he tells himself. <i>I think I've wanted you ever since I met you,</i> she'd said. They've known each other for months and they've become so close and she still lights up whenever she sees him. Why has it taken him so long to notice that she's in love with him? Why has it taken him so long to notice that <i>he's</i> in love with <i>her</i>? This is the second time he's woken up next to her and he feels like he could do it every morning. And they haven't even had sex yet.</p><p>He bends in to kiss the top of her head again. It feels very natural, very comfortable. Anne looks so pretty when she's sleeping, with her face all relaxed and her lips parted just a little. Richard doesn't think he's ever noticed before how long her eyelashes are, but then, he's never been <i>quite</i> this close to her, not face to face anyway. He's not sure how long he's been lying there, just watching her sleep, when she stirs at last and smiles up at him with this sweet, soft look.</p><p>"Hi," Richard says. </p><p>Anne's sleepy smile widens into a bright grin. "Hi yourself," she says. "Feeling better?"</p><p>"Much." </p><p>"Good," she says, and kisses him. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of that," she says, and Richard laughs and kisses her in turn. </p><p>"Maybe we shouldn't bother with breakfast," he says against her lips.</p><p>Anne giggles, her hand slipping beneath his shirt, tracing little circles against his skin and making him shiver as she kisses him again—an intense one, this time, with tongue. "I want you <i>and</i> I want breakfast," she says, afterward. "But we also need condoms so we have to go out. Unless we ask my neighbors," she adds. "Someone probably has some."</p><p>Richard can feel the blood drain from his face. "I think we should stick with the breakfast plan, then," he says.</p><p>"I agree," Anne says, and kisses him again, a series of soft fluttery kisses on his lips. "We should get up, then," she says, not moving.</p><p>"I should wash my face," Richard says.</p><p>"I should get dressed," Anne says.</p><p>"It's a shame we're not at my place," Richard says. "I could probably steal some condoms from Henry. He bought a box as soon as his father went back to London, even though he hardly has the nerve to <i>talk</i> to the girl he fancies ever since he figured out that he fancies her. I mean, her family is friends with ours and we've known her all our lives. Anyway, he probably wouldn't even notice they were gone."</p><p>Anne giggles. "Get up and put your shoes on," she says. "Then go sit at the desk until I tell you it's all right."</p><p>"I can't watch you get dressed?" Richard says. </p><p>Anne blushes. "You can undress me when we get back."</p><p>"It's a deal," Richard says, kissing her again before getting up to find his shoes and sit down at her desk. He finds himself studying the various items on her pinboard, as she rummages around in the wardrobe: some postcards from what looks like Kew Gardens; a print of the Velvet Underground album cover with the banana, and one of a Mucha Sokol Festival poster; an Eldon Society flyer and one from the Oxford University Czech and Slovak Society; a photo of Anne standing between two men on a medieval-looking stone bridge—one broad, bearded and slightly unkempt, the other a ginger, pointy-faced teenage boy, obviously her brothers because they all have the same eyebrows and nose; a little sketch in ballpoint pen of Anne herself, poring over a pile of books. He'd drawn it while sitting across from her in the University College Library a while back, in lieu of actually working on his Roman Private Law paper, and when she'd seen it she'd blushed an adorable shade of pink and asked if she could have it. In retrospect, he ought to have read more into that.</p><p>"You kept my drawing," he says.</p><p>"Of course I did," she says. He can hear the smile in her voice. "I don't think anyone over the age of about five has ever drawn a picture of me before. Definitely not one that makes me look beautiful and smart. You can turn around now," she adds.</p><p>"You <i>are</i> beautiful and smart," Richard says, and when he turns around she's beaming at him, dressed in a yellow cardigan over a green daisy-print dress over leggings, her cheeks bright pink. </p><p>"Do you like it?" she says, indicating her outfit. "I wanted to wear something nice. This is technically our first date, you know."</p><p>"It is!" Richard says, laughing. "We should go somewhere fancy, except—" He indicates his rumpled clothes, which he'd slept in last night. "They'd probably throw me out. But you look beautiful," Richard says. "I mean, you always do, but I really like your dress."</p><p>"We can go somewhere fancy for dinner," Anne says. She raises an eyebrow, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, and adds, "After we've worked up an appetite."</p><p>Richard reaches out, wraps an arm around her waist, pulls her to his side. "I had no idea you could be like this," he says. "I like it."</p><p>"I didn't know either," Anne says. She bites her lip, but her expression is sly. "I don't normally have sex on the first date, you know." She bends in and kisses the top of his head.</p><p>"I haven't really had sex any other way," Richard admits, "but the thing is—this time it <i>means</i> something." </p><p>"You are so wonderful," Anne murmurs into his hair. "We should go eat before I throw myself at you."</p><p>They end up having breakfast at Brown's, instead of somewhere fancier—it's more of a post-hangover fry-up thing than a romantic date thing, but there is tea and copious amounts of fried food, which heal all ills. They hold hands the whole way there; it's a bit sad when they have to let go in order to eat, although they get the giggles when Richard offers Anne some of his sausage because hers is a little burnt and she tries to eat it suggestively. When they get back to Anne's room, after a stop at Boots and a walk back in anticipatory silence, they close the door behind them and then grin at each other in a way Richard suspects looks idiotic on him, although it's really cute on Anne.</p><p>"Well," he says. "Here we are, then."</p><p>"Yes!" Anne says, nodding a bit too eagerly, like she's glad she hasn't had to start the conversation back up. "Here we are."</p><p>"I think the man at the till winked at us," Richard says.</p><p>Anne giggles. "I didn't notice," she says. "I suppose we are pretty obvious. Even if we weren't buying condoms and nothing else. I feel like I'm glowing, Richard."</p><p>"You look like it, too," Richard says, reaching up to cup her face, and she turns her head to kiss his palm. "Why didn't we figure this out weeks ago?"</p><p>"I wish I'd been brave enough to ask," Anne says. "I mean—bisexual people exist, I knew that, but I didn't think—I knew you'd be kind if you'd said no, but I was afraid you'd back off, to spare my feelings or because you felt awkward, and I thought if you'd been interested you'd have said something…"</p><p>Richard pulls her close to him, wraps his arms around her. "Don't feel bad," he says. "I knew bisexual people exist and it took me until today and a fuck-ton of booze to figure out I <i>was</i> one."</p><p>Anne looks up at him, her face suddenly worried. "Richard?" she says. "If this—" she gestures toward the bed, where the box of condoms is lying— "doesn't go as well as we hope—we'll still be friends, won't we?"</p><p>Richard bends in to kiss her forehead. "Anne, you're the best thing that's happened to me in years, and I want you in my life no matter what. But I'm not very worried that I'm not actually attracted to you. I thought I was going to come in my trousers when you did the thing with the sausage and then I could never show my face at Brown's again."</p><p>Anne laughs and draws him down to kiss her lips, although it's much more awkward when they're both standing. "You're so adorable," she murmurs against his mouth before kissing him again, and this time her lips part against his and her tongue slips into his mouth. Her hands move to his waist and she begins to undo his belt as he eases her cardigan off her shoulders and then reaches up to undo her plait as he steps out of his own trousers, and she shivers a little as his fingers make their way through her hair. When they draw apart for breath he steps back and her hair is falling down her back and past her waist in deep golden-brown waves.</p><p>"I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair down before," he says. "It's beautiful."</p><p>"It gets in the way if I don't braid it," Anne says, smiling and lowering her eyes. "Thank you, though." </p><p>"I've been trying to grow mine out," Richard says. "They wouldn't let us wear it long at Eton. My uncle has been bitching about it all summer. Says I look like a girl."</p><p>"You're prettier than most girls, though," Anne says. "Much prettier than me."</p><p>Richard sits on the bed, so that his eyes are closer to level with hers without having to look down at her. "Anne, you're a beautiful woman," he says, drawing her close to him and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Not just because of your hair or your eyes or your skin, although all of those things are beautiful, but because you're you." He grins up at her. "I wouldn't rethink my sexuality for just anyone," he says, and she bends in to kiss him, running her fingers through his hair. He reaches back to unzip her dress, and she releases him so he can more easily slide it down her shoulders.</p><p>"Lift up your arms," Anne says, and when he complies she peels his polo-neck over his head and then rests her hands on his shoulders, stepping back to look him over as he sits there in his pants, her face radiant. "I can't believe this is really happening," she says, and Richard pulls her back to him, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her breasts, turning his face to press kisses to them. His hands move to her hips to push her leggings down, trailing gently over the backs of her thighs, and she leans in to rest her cheek against his hair, her breasts pressing against his cheek and her fingers tracing over his spine as his hands curve over her bottom, making his way beneath her knickers in order to ease them over her hips. She shivers against him, and he leans back to look at her face again.</p><p>"Feeling all right?" he says.</p><p>Anne nods. "I've never felt better," she says, stepping away from her knickers and leggings where they lay in a pile on the floor. She looks more rounded with her clothes off, solid but soft, like Rembrandt's Bathsheba. She moves in to stand astride his knees before bending in to kiss him again. "I thought I'd feel more nervous about being naked," she says. "Even with you." </p><p>Richard smiles. "You still have your bra on," he says, and Anne giggles.</p><p>"Well, go on then," she says.</p><p>She's wearing the kind of bra that hooks up in the front, which is a relief because he doesn't have to either ask her to turn around or unhook it sight unseen. There's a faint flush across her fair skin that deepens as he reaches up to cup her breasts reverently and trace his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch and making her gasp before he unhooks her bra and she shrugs out of it. He's beginning to see why straight men are so mad about breasts. When his mouth covers one of her nipples as his thumb resumes teasing the other a low moan escapes from her throat and he can feel her knees buckle. </p><p>"Richard—" she pants, one hand clutching at his shoulder and the other in his hair. "I think I have to get on the bed before I fall over."</p><p>"I want to get out of my pants anyway," he says, muffled against her breast. He runs his hands over her hips again and leans up to kiss her quickly before releasing her, and she scrambles onto the bed, sitting cross-legged amid the rumpled sheets, fiddling with the box of condoms as she watches him removing his pants. Richard's face heats up as he realizes she's staring at his cock, although she looks quite pleased and even a little impressed—probably she's never actually seen one in person before, although he's not going to ask her whether she has. She's already told him it's her first time.</p><p>Anne smiles up at him, her face as flushed as his feels. "You're so beautiful," she says, leaning back to put the condom box on the shelf behind the head of the bed. "Don't let me forget these," she says. "Or should we put it on now? It won't fall off or something during, you know, foreplay?"</p><p>Richard waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "I think I could stand to be a little harder first," he says.</p><p>Anne grins back at him. "I think I can help with that." She stretches out on the bed and holds out her hand. "Come here and lie down." </p><p>Richard does as she asks, lying on his back beside her, drawing her down for a lengthy kiss, trailing his fingers down her spine, shivering as her own hand finds its way slowly down his belly, gasping as her hand closes around his cock. She curls up against him, resting her head on his chest and watching him raptly as she strokes him gently, and her hands are so warm and soft Richard is afraid he'll go off and ruin their afternoon. He covers Anne's hand with his own. "Definitely condom time now," he says. </p><p>Anne sits up and grabs the box of condoms again. "What color do you want?" she says.</p><p>"Surprise me," Richard says.</p><p>"Lie back and close your eyes." Anne's face is mischievous, and Richard sits up to give her a quick kiss before obeying her instructions. Then there's a crinkly noise as she opens the packet, he can feel the warmth of her body as she moves closer to him, and then all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears.</p><p>"Don't forget to pinch the tip," he says, hoping his voice isn't shaking <i>too</i> much.</p><p>"I know," Anne says. "It says on the box."</p><p>"Right," Richard says, and then Anne is putting the condom on him, rolling it down with agonizing slowness, and then she lets go and her hair is brushing against him, tickling him, and <i>then</i> her tongue is tracing the underside of his cock and he clutches at the sheets and tries not to cry out too loudly, except she pulls away and makes a gagging sound and he sits up and opens his eyes.</p><p>"Sorry," Anne says. "Sorry, it's just—the condom didn't taste very good."</p><p>Richard pulls her close to him, kisses her hair and her forehead and then her lips. "They generally don't," he says. "It's not your fault. Also, it <i>felt</i> really good." He grins. "I see you went with neon green."</p><p>Anne giggles. "I thought it suited." She looks down at him pensively. "Do you think it will fit?"</p><p>"It feels fine," Richard says. "I got the same size I usually do—" </p><p>"No, I mean—" Anne bites her lip. "You. In me."  </p><p>"I think it should," Richard says. He leans in for another kiss. "I can't imagine us <i>not</i> fitting together perfectly," he adds, as his hand slips between her legs, fingers trailing through the thick curls there as she sighs contentedly, pressing against him, and she's hot and wet against his palm as he kisses her again, pressing her onto her back to brace himself above her, stroking between her thighs to encourage her to part them, a message she has no trouble understanding. He slides a finger into her, very gently, caressing her from inside, and she gasps in a way that turns into a moan as a second finger joins the first and his thumb finds her clitoris to trace slow circles around it and he bends to press kisses to her lips, her throat, her breasts, and his cock throbs at every sound that escapes her mouth. </p><p>"Anne—" he breathes against her ear. "Anne, I need to—" </p><p>"Yes," she pants back at him. "God, yes." She pushes herself up a little on her elbows, reaching back to twist her hair behind her head and out of the way before opening her legs wider and Richard kneels between them, gazing at her radiant, eager face, her breasts and belly, her flushed, inviting thighs—he promises himself he's going to bury his face between them one of these days, when he knows it's safe, but for now he takes hold of the edge of the condom and she watches, rapt, as he eases into her slowly, carefully. She gasps and winces a little when he presses past the slight resistance he finds, and he stops and asks, "Did that hurt?"</p><p>"Just a pinch," she says. She smiles, leaning back and drawing him down for a kiss. "Keep going," she whispers against his lips, wrapping her legs around him so that he's completely inside her and he has to pause for a minute to catch his breath because they're so close now, as close as they can get, and she is so soft against him and so hot and tight around him and it's perfect. Anne is beaming up at him, her eyes bright, her own breath coming hard, and she's biting her lip but she can't quite suppress a giggle. If Richard trusted her any less he'd be afraid she's laughing at him, but this is Anne and she would never.</p><p>"What's so funny?" he says, anyway.</p><p>Anne kisses him quickly before answering. "I just—can't believe this is real," she says. "I'm afraid I'll wake up and I'll have to go to lecture or something instead of having sex with the most beautiful, wonderful man I've ever met."</p><p>Richard grins down at her, brushing his nose against hers. "You're so adorable," he says, moving to kiss the soft place just under her ear. "And beautiful and sweet and <i>incredibly hot</i> and I just want to stay here forever." </p><p>Anne giggles again, tracing lazy circles over his back. "You were right, you know."</p><p>"I was?" Richard says, between pressing kisses to her jawline and her throat.</p><p>"We fit perfectly," Anne says. </p><p>She doesn't mention that Richard has suddenly started to exude clouds of sparkly hearts, so he can only assume that it isn't <i>literally</i> happening, despite all feelings to the contrary. "We do," he says, and kisses her again as he begins to move inside her.</p><p>"Oh!" Anne gasps, and Richard stops moving, concerned, until she says, "No, that was good, keep doing it."</p><p>"At your service," Richard says, kissing her again, and she laughs against his mouth and runs her hands over his back, moving to press kisses to the hollow of his shoulder until he braces himself on his elbows so that he can run his hands down her sides to cup her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples until she moans and her body arches against him, clenching around him and making him shiver and press his face into her hair until he can catch his breath and be certain that he's not going to come just yet. He slows his pace then, wanting to draw this out, and Anne is writhing beneath him, her head thrown back and her hands clutching at his back and she murmurs something Richard can't understand but the little gasps and cries that escape her throat and the look of ecstasy on her face makes the meaning clear enough. She draws him down to kiss him fiercely as he begins to thrust faster because he can't keep up the slow pace anymore. Part of him is trying not to panic—what if he can't make her come? He's never had sex with a woman before and everything he's ever read has indicated that giving a woman an orgasm is the most difficult thing ever—should he have suggested she go on top, or gone down on her first, or—God, she's so beautiful and he just wants to be inside her forever but he can't keep this up, she feels so good, and he's going to disappoint her by just going off—</p><p>—and then she's got her legs wrapped around him again and she cries out as her body trembles and shudders and clenches around him and he's able to let go and he's coming too and he can't <i>stop</i> coming and then there's a dull thud like someone's pounding on the wall and they're both breathing hard, clinging together, and Anne cries "Sorry!" in the direction of the wall and they can't stop giggling as Richard withdraws, standing up on shaky legs to remove the condom and drop it in the bin before climbing back into bed, curling up around Anne, who is staring at him with a dazed, silly grin on her face.</p><p>"You know," she says, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, "they always tell girls that the first time you have sex it will be awful and painful and you'll bleed everywhere, and I always wondered if they wanted to scare us off. I think they must because that was <i>amazing.</i>"</p><p>Richard is grinning just as hard as Anne is. It's actually making the muscles at the back of his head ache. "It really was," he says, his hand curving over her hip. He's still amazed at how soft her skin is. "We should definitely have done it sooner."</p><p>"We should," Anne says. "But we can do it a lot more in the future. And maybe some more before we get out of bed." </p><p>"You're already ready for more?" </p><p>Anne laughs and kisses him. "Not <i>right this minute,</i>" she says. "After more snuggling. I'm not sure I'm actually done having an orgasm yet."</p><p>"I think I can manage that, then," Richard says. "You're even more snuggly without clothes."</p><p>"I kind of want to sleep in your arms every night now," Anne says. She smiles up at him. "Why don't you stay over again tonight? You just have to sign in at the porters' lodge." </p><p>"I would love that," Richard says. "I need to go back to my flat at some point, to shower and get some clothes. And I'd like to take you someplace nice for dinner, to celebrate."</p><p>"I definitely approve of that," Anne says, in between pressing kisses to his collarbone.</p><p>"We could go back to my place after dinner," Richard says, "which would probably make your neighbors happier, but Henry is there and that's profoundly unsexy. On the other hand, my bed is bigger than yours."</p><p>"Mmm, a bigger bed would definitely be nice." Anne's fingers are tracing patterns on his chest, trailing through his (embarrassingly sparse, but she hasn't said anything) chest hair, circling his nipple and making him shiver. "Do men like having their nipples played with?" she says, after a moment. "You never see it in sex scenes or anything. And it felt amazing when you played with mine."</p><p>"I definitely like what you're doing now," Richard says.</p><p>"I think," Anne says, fingers still tracing lightly over his nipple, "next time we have sex—in a few minutes—I should go on top."</p><p>"That's—" Richard swallows hard as Anne's hand moves over his chest to tease his other nipple. "That's a brilliant idea."</p><p>"I mean, I think I have the hang of it—" Her fingers stop moving and she looks up at him. "You're sure I did all right?"</p><p>"Oh, more than just all right," Richard says, kissing the top of her head. "Best sex I've ever had." </p><p>"I always thought I'd be nervous, the first time," Anne says. "Even with someone I really liked and was excited about having sex with." She smiles shyly. "Maybe I shouldn't be talking like this after one time having sex, I don't know. I don't want to scare you off and I'm not saying we should go and elope or something. But this felt <i>right.</i> Like it's what I'm supposed to be doing, like I <i>belong</i> with you."</p><p>Richard wriggles out from under Anne, rolling over onto his side so he can face her. "I've never really had a lot of friends," he says. "I have a lot of relatives, but it's not the same, and—well, you've heard most of my Eton stories."</p><p>"They do kind of spoil the mood," Anne says, smiling. </p><p>"And, I mean, I met you, and I already knew I was queer, and I thought, oh, this must be what having a real friend feels like," Richard says. "Except—I think I was in love with you right from the beginning."</p><p>Anne bites her lip and lowers her eyes. "You know," she says, "one thing I have never quite understood about English is how <i>often</i> English speakers say 'I love you'—the same words for every kind of love, whether it's your friends or your parents or your partner."</p><p>"You don't do it that way in Czech?" Richard says. </p><p>"We don't really say 'I love you' much to begin with," Anne says. "But usually you would say <i>Mám tě ráda.</i> Or <i>I</i> would. <i>You'd</i> say <i>Mám tě rád.</i>"</p><p>"<i>Mám tě rád, Anna,</i>" Richard says, and Anne giggles and kisses him quickly.</p><p>"We'll cover direct address another time," she says.</p><p>"So that's how you'd tell your boyfriend or girlfriend you love them, then?" Richard says.</p><p>Anne nods. "Right. But the literal meaning is something more like 'I like you.' As I said, we don't say 'I love you' very much and then it's only when it's romantic and you're very serious." She smiles up at him, her eyes shining. "When you say that, you say <i>Miluju tě.</i>"</p><p><i>She means it,</i> Richard realizes, and his heart swells as he lifts a hand to caress her face.</p><p>"<i>Miluju tě</i>," he repeats back to her.</p>
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